


The Lost Durin

by Lady_Juno



Series: Dragonriders of Erebor [2]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Discontent elf, Dragonriders, Dragons for Everyone!, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Juno/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is retired.<br/><span class="u">Retired pieces</span> will not be added to. </p><p>Thorin stared at the newcomer, looking rather as though someone had just gut-punched him without warning. The throne room echoed deafeningly with his advisers' protests, but it seemed the dwarf king couldn't hear them. Tauriel took a step back and felt a strong hand lock around her elbow.<br/>"You're not going anywhere," growled the richly-dressed she-dwarf. "You have much to tell us."<br/>"If I didn't, I would hardly be here, my lady." Still, the elf wished there were more folk that would believe she wasn't out to break every rule she could find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Durin

The wind was cool, but steady as it stirred the upper branches of the old trees, thickly robed in verdant summer green. Under Cessa's wings, the air scooped and swirled, propelling them on as the sleek dragon bore her Rider over the ground, following the line of hills that marked the border of the Woodland Realm. A mile distant, the treeline ended, and beyond that were more rolling hills, climbing up to a stony ridge, an offshoot of the Misty Mountains. Cessa banked slowly to the right, toward the treeline, searching for an updraft that would take her higher. From her back, the red-haired elf peered at the ground, squinting against the flare of dawn light breaking over the horizon.

 _:You are not happy.:_ The dragon's voice was as cool as the wind, and Tauriel grimaced.

 _:I guess I'm not. How far have things fallen, that I must exercise such stealth simply to fulfill my duty as a member of the Guard?:_ She could feel her temper rising and breathed deeply of the thin, crisp air, trying to head off the silent rant that was her nearly constant companion now. _:I want to be useful, Cessa. That's all.:_

There was a feeling of affirmation from the she-dragon, but she offered no further comment. As close as their Bond was, Cessa knew there was no need to say more. Tauriel's mind was a veritable chaos of frustration and thinly-veiled fear. By the time they returned, perhaps things would seem less grim to her Rider.

In the thick trees below, a roar of fury rose without warning, startling a flock of birds into the air. Cessa began to circle, her triangular head swaying to and fro, soft nostrils wide and quivering. Even from this height, the sound of two heavy forms crashing through the underbrush was clear as day. As one, elf and dragon prepared for battle. This might have been (technically) beyond their borders, but what self-respecting Woodland Elf would allow such an enemy so close to their ancestral home?

_:Orc.:_

Tauriel didn't need Cessa's announcement to know their prey. The hunt was hot in her blood, and as her bowstring bent under steady fingers and her dragon carried her steeply downward, through the thick foliage to the ground, the elleth knew her purpose. She would kill the orc and his pack, single-handed if need be, whether her king wished her to defend the border or not. But the creature that nearly collided with Cessa's foreleg wasn't an orc. The sturdy, husky form of a dwarf stumbled away from the sleek dragon, hands up to shield his bearded face.

There was no time to think about this. Shoot first, ask questions later; like why the dwarf was so close to the Woodland realm, why he was unarmed, and why he was all wet. Through the underbrush behind the startled dwarf crashed a greasy, grey-skinned, yellow-eyed creature that bellowed in surprise as an arrow fletched in the green and white of the Guard found its home in his still-beating heart. The orc hadn't yet hit the ground when the elf turned her bow on the dwarf once more, another arrow on the string, heart pounding, senses alert.

"Answer quickly if you wish to live. Why are you here, Dwarf?" Tauriel thought, afterwards, that she'd been a bit harsher than necessary with the dwarf--after all, Thranduil had recently declared peace with Erebor. (It was, however, a ceremonial peace at best. Tension between the two kingdoms had never really lessened.) The dwarf, however, obeyed without offering any of the characteristically surly or caustic remarks which were so common to his race.

"Travelin' to Erebor, and tryin' not to get killed by orcs, if it pleases m'lady."

Any further conversation was prematurely terminated by a pained roar, not too far to the west. The dwarf spun 'round, eyes wide and expression curiously frantic. Cessa lifted her head, multicolored eyes whirling in distress. A dragon in pain. A dragon in danger. And this dragon was apparently Bonded to this dwarf. Tauriel made her decision before the sound had faded from the chill morning air. Slinging her bow over her shoulder and dropping the arrow back into her quiver, she reached down to the dwarf.

"Mount swiftly, Dwarf. We shall need to fly if we are to save your dragon."

In a trice the dwarf was seated before her, in the hollow where Cessa's neck joined her body, and as she spread her wings, the little man hunched his shoulders, bracing himself for the moment when Cessa took flight. An inexperienced Rider, then. Possibly his Bondmate was too young to have been flying very long. Or, thought Tauriel as Cessa took wing, too young to fly at all.

The three of them were airborne only a short time when the elf felt her friend fold her wings, dropping them through the foliage into the clearing below that was by all accounts too small to hold both dragons. The orcs swarming around their paws were beside the point. The second dragon, much younger than Cessa and vibrantly blue-green in color, and bleeding from several nasty-looking wounds. Even if he was large or old enough to fly, he wouldn't be able to get airborne in that condition.

Tauriel had no time to give instructions. The dwarf had already vaulted from Cessa's shoulders and into the fray with a blood-curdling war cry. Unarmed as he was, the little man was giving quite an account of himself. The elleth stayed on Cessa's back while the dragon used her claws and tail against the snarling, angry orcs. Arrow after arrow leapt from her bow with deadly accuracy, the string singing its battle song as orcs fell, grasping frantically at the shafts protruding from their filthy bodies.

In spite of their quickly-diminishing numbers, the orcs were enough to overwhelm the unarmed dwarf. He fought valiantly, and Tauriel was duly impressed by the number of foes he felled with naught but his bare hands. Still, it was a fool's errand at best, and by the time the last orc had stopped its twitching, Tauriel had dismounted and hauled a carcass off of the dwarf's body. Remarkably, he was still alive. His leg was badly wounded though, and bleeding freely around the rusted knife buried there.

"You're a brave fool." Tauriel turned to the wounded dragon, who was watching her, long whiskers vibrating slightly. A firedrake. Intriguing. "I need to get your Rider out of here quickly. Cessa and I will return for you."

There was a moment of tense silence, then the firedrake dipped his head slightly in agreement. Carrying the groaning dwarf back to her friend, Tauriel mounted swiftly. "To the Woodland Palace, Cessa, and quickly."

* * *

"Another dwarf?" Thranduil's nose wrinkled as though he were smelling something unpleasant, and Tauriel inwardly winced, wondering if her king imagined he could smell the dwarf-blood on her. "Tauriel, I had hoped you would have moved past this." Waving an elegant hand vaguely, the blond elf reclined in his throne.

"There was a Rider within our borders, out-numbered and under attack. I couldn't let it alone in good conscience. The orcs have become bolder of late, my lord, and I fear they will eventually seek to attack us as well."

"They have not the strength, even if they do not lack the courage." Thranduil huffed dismissively through his nose. "You are too soft, Tauriel. These travelers are trespassing on our lands, and ought to live with the consequences. Else, how will they learn?"

"They won't, if they're dead." The elleth's tone was perhaps blunt to the point of disrespect, but she could rein in her anger only so much. "If we let the innocent die for a lack of understanding, are we truly any better than the orcs? Even now, the dwarf's firedrake is waiting for us to return. Would you leave an injured dragon to die?"

For a long moment, the Elvenking studied her, his face impassive. If she was punished, at least it would be for good reason. Tauriel lifted her chin slightly, ready to meet her fate as her king decreed. But after the moment had passed, Thranduil gestured languidly.

"You may go."

She accepted his dismissal with a bow and turned to leave, brow furrowed in confusion. An exchange like that ought to have gotten her demoted at very least, perhaps imprisoned or flogged. What was he playing at? With no desire to give her king any more reason to disapprove of her or her choices, Tauriel made her way toward the training rooms, where she might actually do something productive.

But of course, things couldn't _possibly_ be that simple.

"Another dwarf? Seriously, Tauriel?" Legolas's expression was disbelieving, and he seemed unwilling to let her move past him to the front gate.

"I don't see why you find this so surprising." Tauriel worked hard to keep her tone as neutral as possible, though she was becoming rather irritated with the implications that, just because one dwarf had made eyes at her during his imprisonment, she was now clearly in league with the race as a whole. "There was a Rider in danger. I only did what any of the Guard would have."

"We have orders not to interfere-"

"Which are ridiculous, as you well know. Why would one traveler, or twenty, or a hundred, need to die for the sake of making a point? Our kin in Imladris take the weary and troubled in and freely offer them aid, while we cower behind our walls and follow orders to let them die." Tauriel seemed to realize that she'd let her tone become too sharp, and lowered her gaze contritely. Legolas was scowling by then--a most unregal expression .

"You speak too informal, Tauriel. One might think you dangerously close to treason with talk like that." He gave his companion a stern, sharp look, and Tauriel fingered the hilts of her daggers, avoiding his gaze. If he didn't understand now, he likely never would.  With no desire to give her king any more reason to disapprove of her or her choices, Tauriel made her way toward the gate with all speed.

Cessa was waiting for her at the tree line, nose to the wind and wings mantled, ready to take flight. It wasn't until the elleth had pulled herself into the saddle that she realized the Woodland Realm's prince was still with her. Blue eyes were sharp, and yet confused as he watched her.

"Tauriel, what's happened to you? You still serve the Elvenking, and yet.. you defy him so often. Why? Is there another to whom your loyalty belongs? Has another won your confidence?" Legolas was clearly troubled by this newest show of defiance, and Tauriel honestly didn't know what to tell him.

"There's an injured firedrake that I need to find before someone else does. We may speak later, my friend." The elleth urged Cessa to spread her wings, eager to get away from this place before her loyalty was questioned any more.

 _:I'm not disloyal. I'm... I'm just trying to do the right thing. Don't they realize that?:_  Tauriel felt very much as though she were somehow lying to herself. Was she? Was she, in fact, disloyal to her king? Was her heart no longer with the Woodland Realm? No. She loved the trees and hills far too much to abandon her home. The idea of leaving them behind felt like a fresh knife-wound.

 _:I don't think you're disloyal. Independent, perhaps, and stubborn. Not disloyal.:_  Cessa could sense her Rider's discontent, but seemed more or less unbothered by it. This fact was very comforting to Tauriel. If Cessa wasn't worried about it, it probably meant that she wasn't actually in danger of defecting.

Bringing the injured firedrake to the Woodland Palace took the remainder of the morning. By the time they arrived, the sun had made the air under the canopy unbearably hot. Entering the palace by the cave-like dragon's entrance above the waterfall was a blessed relief, and there were Keepers that met them almost immediately to tend the firedrake's wounds.

A Guard found them, looking grimly amused. "The dwarf you brought in is making a ruckus."

Tauriel sighed, bidding Cessa farewell and hurrying along the passage. As she had guessed, their newest guest was in a prison cell and demanding to see his dragon. The dwarf's voice was even rougher than normal, after what must have been hours of imprisonment.

"There is very little good all your yelling will do."

The dwarf stopped, blinking in surprise. Tauriel noted that his clothes were no longer mud-spattered. In fact, he was almost entirely clean, his hair already drying to a dull, burnished gold.

"Where's Onus? What've ya done with 'im?"

"Your drake is safely in the eyries, being tended by our dragon-keepers as we speak."

The dwarf relaxed slightly. Now in close quarters, the elleth could see a look of reluctant trust in the dwarf's brown eyes. The thought crossed her mind that she'd seen hair like that, with a face like that before, but the eyes had been blue-grey, not brown. No... the one with brown eyes had had dark hair, and looked at her as though she were a goddess descended from the moon. Tauriel stiffened slightly, a thrill of suspicion running through her.

"What's you're name, Dwarf?"

"Fris."

"And your kin?"

An expression of resentment crossed the dwarf's face and he ran a hand over his scruffy, untrimmed beard. "I have none." At a questioning look, he sighed. "Me mam is dead. Never knew me da. Only that I was name after 'is mam."

Tauriel felt a sort of chill. The name sounded familiar, but she didn't know where from. She _did_ know that this dwarf looked remarkably like Fili. Perhaps only because Fili was the only blond dwarf she'd ever seen. Dwarves seemed to look very much the same.

"Ya look like ya saw a ghost."

The she-elf looked down at their guest with new eyes. "Maybe I have. I will do my best to get you and your drake to Erebor."

Brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why? Why're you so eager ta help? Not exactly friendly fuzzies between Elves n' Dwarves."

"Because, even if my kin don't believe Dwarves are worth saving, I do." Tauriel knew her voice had taken on a sharp edge. She was tired of everyone second-guessing her motives. Would it have been easier to just do as everyone expected her to? Likely. But that didn't make the easy course the right one. Fris considered this for a moment, then nodded, scrubbing his beard once more.

"Suppose ya already saved me life twice t'day, and Onus', too. Ya can't be all bad."

"I'm gratified that _someone_ thinks so, at least." Tauriel sighed, feeling discontent. "In the meantime, I suggest you don't cause too much trouble down here. My kin are more likely to see things my way if they don't think you're a threat."

 


End file.
